


Change

by NebulousMistress



Series: Let Slip the Hounds of the First Order [10]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Phasma - Delilah S. Dawson
Genre: M/M, Monster Armitage Hux, One Night Stands, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, virginal fumbling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:15:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26567914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NebulousMistress/pseuds/NebulousMistress
Summary: He didn't even have the decency to tell Cardinal privately.
Relationships: Cardinal/Armitage Hux
Series: Let Slip the Hounds of the First Order [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1698706
Comments: 12
Kudos: 25





	Change

The _Absolution_ hovered above the Ilum shipyards, the _Locutor_ basking in her shadow. Imperial Star Destroyers sulked in the distance while tugs and construction droids swarmed their infant replacements. Ilum shone pale in the light of distant Asar as freighters and an Interdictor used gravity, force, and heat to shove dull metal rods a thousand kilometers long into the glowing red crater.

Nothing had changed. Nothing had changed for the past 43 hours. Forty three hours ago the _Absolution_ entered the Asar system having declared a medical emergency. Forty three hours ago General Brendol Hux had been transferred to the _Locutor_ upon Brendol’s own order for reasons he did not disclose. That was the last anyone had heard of Brendol’s condition.

Captain Cardinal watched from the observation deck of the _Absolution_ as freighters scattered and the Interdictor flared. One of the rods cleaved under the strain, fragments slamming into the others in a slow motion collapse that had ships vacating the destruction. He expected the swearing that filtered over the local comms must be legendary.

The spectacle gave him something to focus on instead of dwelling on his own thoughts. The Interdictor lifted rod fragments from the collapse, holding them against the pull of Ilum’s gravity while small ships darted in with tractor beams and tow cables to pull the metal out of the destruction. Rod fragments were ferried back to a fabrication station to await reforging or perhaps a design change.

The spectacle distracted him. He didn’t notice the shuttle launched from the _Locutor_ until the comm broke through his own thoughts, orders to report to the main hangar bay.

“I’m on my way,” Cardinal acknowledged. At last. General Hux had returned. That must be it. Otherwise the bridge crew would have told him. He checked his armor in the viewport’s reflection then hurried off.

He wanted to be the first to welcome his general back.

Cardinal’s good mood lasted until he stepped off of the lift onto the hangar deck.

Something was wrong here.

General Hux normally insisted the _Absolution’s_ entire complement of Stormtroopers stood to greet him, the legions in great ranks all facing their commander as they flanked the narrow runway of the shuttle. Instead these ranks stood with their backs to the forcefield, all facing a platform like one that Brendol would use to make speeches. A narrow break in the middle led right up to that platform as an aisle awaiting a dignitary’s ascension. Why would General Hux need to make a speech to announce his safe return? Surely he wasn’t retiring.

The forcefield hummed and the sound of a shuttle’s engines filled the hangar bay. This shuttle landed gracefully behind the Stormtrooper ranks as though daring them all to look back. Nobody did.

Cardinal rushed to take his place at the head of the ranks, awaiting his orders. He heard footsteps moving between the Stormtrooper legions, six pairs of boots approaching the stage.

None of them sounded like Brendol.

None of them **were** Brendol.

Cardinal watched with growing dread as General Pryde ascended to the stage with his two Stormtrooper guards then as Captain Armitage Hux ascended with his own two Hound guards. General Pryde wore his formal Imperial dress uniform, chest peppered with awards and medals, his formal crop in one hand. It was a stark contrast to Captain Hux in his black First Order officer’s breastplate and unadorned uniform with cap.

Both men seemed to be waiting for the other to speak. Finally General Pryde glared and tapped his own boot with the tongue of the crop. It must have been an unspoken order, much like clicked teeth, because Captain Hux bristled then stepped forward.

Captain Armitage Hux pulled the cap from his head and tucked it under one arm. His red hair shone like fresh blood in the harsh lights of the hangar bay. Cardinal shivered as Armitage stood tall, took a deep breath, and began to speak.

“It is my solemn duty to inform you all,” Armitage began. “General Brendol Hux, my father, your commander, has died.”

Cardinal felt the blood rush from his head to pool in his feet. He locked his knees to avoid swaying as his vision narrowed to the shock of red above him. This couldn’t be happening. He dragged himself back from the brink, refusing to lose focus.

“He received the finest medical care the First Order could provide. I was with him until the end.” Armitage took a deep breath, one hand crushing the felt cap in his grip. “I shall not attempt to voice the admiration which the general commanded of all of you. Each of you must evaluate the loss in the privacy of your own thoughts.”

Silence stretched until Cardinal realized that was it. That was the entirety of Armitage’s words for his own father’s death?!

Hushed whispers drifted down from the stage, Armitage and General Pryde arguing but Cardinal couldn’t hear much over the rush of his own heartbeat. Brendol was dead. How did it happen? When? He’d been fine, a little hung over perhaps when last they spoke, but that was normal! Then the next thing he’d heard they were diverting back to Ilum for an emergency rendezvous with the _Locutor_ , no details available. It was Brendol’s insistence they divert here for a medical emergency!

His own medical emergency…

“Then you say something instead of making me give your speech for you!” Armitage snapped.

Cardinal’s attention shot back to the stage where Armitage bared his teeth in warning, red crest raised on his neck but held in check by the breastplate. Pryde had the riding crop raised as though about to use it as a weapon. Cardinal watched as Pryde caved first, though he never lowered the whip even as he allowed Armitage to retreat to the rear of the stage.

General Pryde stepped forward, crop held like a swaggerstick in his hands as he began to speak.

“There was no greater man than General Brendol Hux,” Pryde began. “The First Order would be nothing without him. You all would be nothing without him. The general’s power began under the cover of night on Arkanis, where he transformed the Imperial Academy with his own powerful ideals. Gone were petty ambitions and self-serving Core-worlders looking for an easy title. Instead he turned the Academy into an institution of loyalty. Loyalty to each other. Loyalty to the Empire. Loyalty to Order.”

Cardinal didn’t hear the rest of Pryde’s speech. He wasn’t even sure for how long Pryde rambled; the next thing he knew was the sound of marching as Stormtroopers filed out in long perfect rows, back to their cadres and their duties and…

And…

Cardinal looked up to see Pryde’s arms around Brendol’s widow. Someone must have told her, she wore a mourning veil of black lace. Maratelle didn’t cry, though she held the handkerchief in one hand. She was too strong to cry, too strong to show her distress in public. She wouldn’t show it until she was alone, and maybe not even then, but Cardinal knew she must feel the same shock he did.

There was no other reason for her to tuck her head under Pryde’s chin while he stroked her veiled hair.

Cardinal left them alone. If General Pryde would comfort the grieving widow it meant Cardinal didn’t have to stand strong for her.

Cardinal left the hangar bay entirely, his booted feet dragging as he wandered aimlessly. He should attempt to get information out of the medical droids, find out what they knew about Brendol’s sudden illness. He should get some sleep, he hadn’t slept since Brendol left the ship. Instead he wandered in a daze, somehow finding himself facing down two black-armored Stormtroopers who stood at a door.

Hounds. Armitage’s Hounds.

He knew these two Hounds. TK-1959 and JN-1301. He never would have thought either capable of attaining such prestige. TK-1959 could never handle a proper blaster, even now his only weapons were a knife and a pistol like he was some sort of civilian. JN-1301 was always far too volatile to be trusted, yet here she was willingly standing guard at a door instead of plotting some way to turn caf creamer packets into explosive charges again. Armitage was the one to bring them both up to where they were now, he molded them into…

...not Stormtroopers. No, these weren’t Stormtroopers. They were like him. Broken. Feral. Like him they would have to be tamed before being allowed anywhere near the Stormtrooper program. Brendol had tamed him.

But who would tame them?

Cardinal stepped up to the two Hounds. “I--” His voice caught in his throat. He cleared it and tried again. “I need to speak to Armitage.”

TK-1959 tapped the side of his head, both deactivating the voice modulator and activating his helm’s internal radio. Cardinal couldn’t hear the exchange though he knew there must be one. TK-1959 turned his voice back on. “Why?”

That one word felt like a slap. “Please,” he whispered. “I have to…” He wasn’t even sure what he needed, just that he needed it. Brendol was dead, there was nobody to stop him, why shouldn't he?

JN-1301 cocked her head then tapped her own radio. Cardinal didn’t hear her either. Then he did. “Fine then,” she said and the door opened.

Cardinal entered and the door closed with a finality he wasn’t sure he wanted to believe.

The room was dim. Cardinal didn’t have nightvision in his helm, instead he pulled it off to squint into darkness. 

The room was empty.

Cardinal left his helm on the deactivated desk. The guest quarters on the _Absolution_ were more lavish than those on board the old Imperial Star Destroyers but that mostly meant they had more than one room. An empty chair sat in front of a modern duraplast table that held a spare datapad. The viewport provided the only light in the room, Ilum too bright to look at directly.

But Cardinal could smell something. He followed that smell to the bedroom.

The bed was a mess, stripped of all its bedding. That bedding lay piled on the floor next to where Armitage sat propped up against the wall, a lit cigarra between his lips. His night-eyes shone in the reflected light from Ilum as he looked up at Cardinal and took a long drag of the cigarra.

“I didn’t think your father liked it when you smoked,” Cardinal said, the first words that popped into his head.

“No, he doesn’t,” Armitage agreed, smoke curling from his lips as he spoke. He exhaled the rest in a quick puff, as though daring Brendol to come back to stop him.

But Brendol wouldn’t stop him, never again. Brendol was gone.

He was never coming back.

Cardinal fell to his knees. Somehow this did it, finally bringing him to the edge and breaking him. He couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t stop himself.

He didn’t want to.

He needed this.

Cardinal dropped forward on his hands, crawling to where Armitage sat against the wall. He looked Armitage in the eyes, searching for a reason to stop, but didn’t find one as he leaned in and nuzzled. Skin rubbed against skin as Cardinal nuzzled, rubbing his cheek against skin much softer than he remembered. Armitage didn’t move, growling low.

Cardinal pulled back and only realized then he’d been crying, his tears flushing Armitage’s spots. He’d never seen these spots at full flush before. He’d only ever seen the fainter spots from before the gene therapies, the ones Brendol claimed were only freckles. These were so much more than that and he wanted to see more of them. He leaned in and licked, drawing his tongue up Armitage’s cheek, his nose, his forehead, then pulled back.

Armitage stabbed the end of his cigarra against the wall, not caring that it left a small scorch mark on the bulkhead. He growled again, his lip pulled back and his nose wrinkling. It wasn’t a warning, Cardinal knew that, he still knew all of the sounds Armitage might make. It was an invitation.

“I should put my teeth on your neck,” Armitage whispered, slinking forward. He reached up, sliding his hand behind Cardinal’s neck, fingers tangling in his short hair and gently tugging his head back. Cardinal leaned back, a breath like a moan falling from his lips. Armitage didn’t bite down, instead licking up the side of Cardinal’s neck.

Armitage could bite down, crush the windpipe, rip his throat from his neck. He should resist it. He should… Brendol would… He…

Cardinal shivered, arching to give Armitage better access. He wasn’t sure if he needed to feel alive or to feel cherished or even to not feel anything. All he knew was he needed this.

“Why are you here?” Armitage asked, the words whispered against Cardinal’s neck.

The hand in his hair let go and Cardinal sat up, gazing at Armitage before him. Red hair looked black in Ilum’s light, night-eyes shining like a predator’s. Spots started between the eyes, dripping down his face to darken his nose and spread over his cheeks before falling down his neck to disappear under his tunic and Cardinal had to see how far down those spots went. His hands went to Armitage’s uniform tunic, trying to unfasten the hidden clasps that kept the chest panel so smooth.

Armitage pulled back and growled, teeth bared. Titanium fangs glinted black; they were the wrong color. Cardinal remembered when they were yellow white, the teeth of a predator. Long and large and words tripped over them and so perfect. Then one day gone, missing, taken away by…

No.

Cardinal had failed him.

Not Brendol, could never fail Brendol. But he’d failed Armitage, he hadn’t stopped Brendol so long ago. So many times he’d failed.

He would never fail again.

Cardinal leaned in again, tongue darting out in tiny soft licks down Armitage’s neck. Armitage seemed confused, unsure what to do, but then something flushed dark under Cardinal’s tongue and the growl turned soft, rolling into a purr.

This time when Cardinal reached for the neck of Armitage’s tunic there was no resistance.

Each clasp of the tunic revealed more spots trailing down chest and shoulders, stopped only by the undershirt that Armitage wore under his uniform. Cardinal found them all, coaxing them to flushing with his tongue as his hands worked the fabric, pulling it open even as Armitage purred and writhed under Cardinal’s tongue.

Cardinal slid the uniform tunic off of Armitage’s shoulders, running his hands down thin wiry arms. His hands stopped just below the elbows as smooth skin became something else and Cardinal had to look. 

Armitage had the audacity to laugh as he brought his hands up to Cardinal’s shoulders to show off the knives in their sheathes strapped to both forearms. Then he pulled away and removed his undershirt, tossing it aside. Cardinal noticed Armitage still wore his identification tags, the metal chips still marked with his old serial number HX-7800.

Even in the darkness lit only by the light of Ilum, he was eerily beautiful. Porcelain skin, almost no pigment at all, shone pale and gray in the darkness. Spots splashed across that skin, staining his face like a spray of blood that dripped down his neck and chest and belly. Spots in red and black and brown and maybe even a few that might have been a human skin tone spread over his shoulders and down his neck and spine, ending who knows where.

Cardinal pulled off his gloves and tossed them away, sliding them up and down Armitage’s bared spine. Smooth skin gave way to a crest of thick hair, rough and oily and barely tamed. It was like the hair on his head didn’t end, instead it trailed down his neck and spine in a long line that almost reached the waistband of his jodhpurs. Cardinal drew his nails up that long crest, feeling Armitage arch and purr under his hands.

He didn’t even notice the click or the sudden change of weight as his own breastplate was unlatched on both sides and pulled away, nor as his pauldrons and braces were peeled off.

He did notice the sudden note of cold and the fast rip.

Cardinal looked down and saw the slice that tore up through his underarmor, his undershirt, even snapping through the chain that held his tags on. He looked down at bare skin, not entirely sure how everything had split so completely, then he noticed the glint of the knife in Armitage’s hand. He felt his heart pound in his chest with all the sobering weight of a bucket of cold water as he realized what must have happened. He hadn’t even noticed as Armitage pulled a knife and sliced everything away with a single stroke of a blade.

Armitage purred as he slid the monofilament blade back into its sheath on his wrist. He then slid his hands across Cardinal’s shoulders to slide the fabric off. He pushed the man back to sit on the deck.

Cardinal had a difficult time processing what had just happened. He easily could have been gutted if Armitage wanted to, he shouldn’t be doing this, he should stop this, he should… He felt Armitage straddle his lap and nuzzle his neck, purring as that rough tongue laved at his neck and Cardinal felt his last thoughts of self-preservation fade away, his crotch plate uncomfortable against his arousal. He trusted Armitage. He trusted this feral Arkanan to put teeth on his neck, blade to his belly, whatever else Armitage demanded of him Cardinal would gladly give. He let his hands bury themselves in oily crest and licked at the spots on a thin pale shoulder.

Cardinal felt the tug at his belt and went still before his hands darted out to stop Armitage. He grabbed both armed wrists, noting how one was already reaching for the other. Cardinal trusted Armitage more than he should, far beyond the bounds of safety, but he drew the line at the idea of those knives at his crotch. Cardinal instead shifted back, rising up on his knees to undo his own armor. First the belt, then the crotch and butt plates, then the cuisses and knee plates. He let himself fall back to unlatch the greaves then remove the boots.

He didn’t get the chance as Armitage crawled forward, meandering up Cardinal’s body like something far too four-legged to be human. A rough tongue laved at Cardinal’s navel while Armitage pulled the underarmor and underwear down to his knees, freeing his cock. That tongue dipped lower, trailing down and then disappearing as a snout nudged his balls and sniffed, scenting him.

Cardinal moaned aloud as Armitage sniffed and nuzzled, the first sounds he’d made since this all started. It was a stark contrast to the constant rumbling purr from Armitage’s throat.

A rough tongue laved up the underside of Cardinal’s cock, too much all at once, and Cardinal’s hands grabbed at Armitage’s hair, pulling him up. That rumbling purr slid up his body, Armitage crawling up to meet him. Shining night-eyes split the darkness, iridescent green breaking any lingering illusion of humanity. Cardinal drew himself to sitting up, pulling Armitage with him to straddle his lap, and nuzzled him.

He reached down between them. Armitage was long and lean, his skin soft like a silken glove over an iron fist. A concave belly, a sharp hip bone, a thatch of oily fur over his middle like the crest on his back. He reached in and then paused, not entirely sure what he’d found.

It felt somewhat like a cock but not quite, too fuzzy, the opening at the tip far too broad. Still, palming it made Armitage purr, those shining eyes falling closed as he grazed those teeth against Cardinal’s shoulder. Cardinal kept touching, rubbing, until something changed. He couldn’t see in the darkness but he could feel as the penis unsheathed, filling in response to his touch. 

Hands grasped at his shoulders, Armitage licking at him like he was trying to flush spots Cardinal didn’t have. Cardinal pulled him close, wrapping a hand around the both of their cocks and stroked them both.

He’d never done this before, not with another person, and he wasn’t sure what else to do. But the way Armitage rutted against him, purring and rumbling, he must be doing something right. He gave himself over to the sensation of another body straddling him, an unfamiliar and oddly ridged cock rubbing against his, his hand around both of them, the smell of musk and oily fur and cigarra smoke, teeth scraping his skin...

Armitage arched back and roared, teeth bared in the dim light. Cardinal felt the gush of fluid over his hand as Armitage came. Cardinal groaned, leaning forward to bury his face in Armitage’s neck. He bit down as his own orgasm crept up on him, rutting against slick flesh and his own hand.

Cardinal growled, the taste of blood in his mouth as he came.

He felt that tongue against his shoulder as he drifted down, the rough texture pricking at his skin. The purr rumbled through him, vibrating in his chest as though it were his own sound. Cardinal leaned down to nuzzle, maybe even to kiss, he’d never kissed anyone before, but Armitage arched back and shuddered with a whine.

Cardinal felt something new gush over his hand, thick and sticky, not like cum at all. He pulled his hand up to look.

He knew what cum looked like, at least his own. This clear stretchy fluid that tried to bind his fingers together like glue? That wasn’t cum.

Armitage leaned back in to nuzzle, unconcerned about this new development. But Cardinal couldn’t. Not with the dread rising in his belly even as the purr filled his chest.

“We shouldn’t have done this,” he whispered.

Armitage murred before pulling away, his night-eyes shining. “You’re getting cold feet **now**?” he asked with a sneer. “You couldn’t have had your moment of shame before, could you.”

“You’re not…” Cardinal didn’t have to finish that statement. Even if they were the same rank, Armitage wasn’t human therefore they shouldn’t be fraternizing like this. Cardinal pointedly ignored the little voice of reality that reminded him that Armitage existed, that he was half human, that it had been Brendol who first strayed past his own species, so why shouldn’t he. Why shouldn’t any of them.

“I’m not,” Armitage agreed. He clicked his teeth and rumbled, a low hiss that Cardinal didn’t even try to fight. “That’s why you’re here.”

Cardinal’s eyes fell closed as that hiss filled his mind, instead wrapping his arms around Armitage and pulling him close, relaxing against satiny skin and oily fur and a nuzzling snout and…

Brendol fought for years, fought so hard to break him of these unconscious reactions to Armitage’s command. Now all that work meant nothing. Brendol wasn’t even gone two days and already the lie of Cardinal’s taming fell apart. He hadn’t been tamed. Not then, not now, not ever. None of them ever were, none of them ever would be again.

Cardinal had to get out of here. He pushed Armitage away, out of his lap. Armitage scampered back, the hissing gone as he growled low. This wasn’t a playful sound anymore, this was a warning.

“Get out then,” Armitage growled. “And don’t come back. Find someone else to assuage your guilt.”

Cardinal collected his armor, quickly pulling plates and sections to him as he got to his feet and out of the bedroom.

He dressed in the main room, the glow from Ilum bright in the viewport. He knew he looked a mess, his underarmor slashed from belly to neck, one rerebrace missing, his butt plate askew, his helm in his hands, his ID tags nowhere to be found, but it would get him out of here.

He fled.

*****

The _Absolution_ jumped to hyperspace, leaving the Asar System behind as it returned to its patrol and its purpose. The First Order needed children and the Otomok System looked promising. The Hays Double Planet was all but abandoned by the New Republic, colonists trying to adapt to twin icy worlds barely capable of supporting life.

Admiral Brooks stood at the helm with a pleased expression on his broad face, as though he’d earned this posting through deed rather than through the death of a colleague. Cardinal watched from the side, his red armor and captain’s cape marking him as much more than the other Stormtroopers. But he was still just a soldier, carrying out Brendol’s grand plan for the Stormtrooper program.

Nothing had changed. Not here, not on Ilum, nowhere in the First Order, and certainly not with Armitage. Nothing had changed and nothing would.

Cardinal knew he would do well to remember that.

**Author's Note:**

> I am aware my plan was and **is** to turn this into a kylux series but hear me out:
> 
> Cardinal's voice wouldn't leave me alone. And I have a Thing for background rarepairs. And everyone has those one night stands they regret. I had to. Had toooo...


End file.
